Only Watch
by DXRULES103
Summary: That was all Michael could do. That was all James could do.


**Disclaimers:** I do not own James Bond but I do own Michael Stone.

**A/N:** Here is another installment to my Michael Stone and James Bond series.

**Only Watch**

When James Bond found his friend Michael Stone drinking a shot of fine whiskey, he expected himself to go over, make an obscene remark, get a zinger in return, and get a drink along with his friend.

But what he discovered instead was something totally off the mark.

Michael stood out from everyone else in the bar. He was wearing black as if in mourning. His tie was undone and his hair ruffled like he didn't comb it. Looking deeper into Stone's face, James saw weariness and in his brown eyes he caught the sight of borderline despair and grief.

He knew at once that something was wrong. There was something that was plaguing his friend tremendously.

James moved out from the shadows, and went to Michael. His friend didn't even notice and just continued to drown something with the alcohol.

"Lonely, are we?" James weakly joked, trying to lift his friend's spirit.

Michael turned his face to him and it was then that James could see how bad Michael was feeling.

He had a paler face than the norm, he looked gauntly and withdrawn, and his eyes held something else besides borderline despair and grief. They also held profound regret. But James didn't know for what.

"Seems I'm not the only one." Michael replied with a weak grin.

There was no real effort from him. After replying, he went on drinking.

This made James even more worried. He knew that he had to be cautious on his approach on getting answers and comforting his forlorn friend.

He took a seat in front of him. Michael didn't even notice. He didn't make a move to continue talking. He just continued drinking but this time not by the shot glass but by the bottle itself.

A waiter came up to them and asked James what he wanted to drink.

"Martine; shaken not stirred." James automatically replied.

He did not let his eyes stray from Michael. He could not for he was afraid that the other man might do something reckless or even worse, and beyond comprehension, something stupid.

"No urge for a woman? No time for an op?" he asked, trying as hard as he can to not sound curious. He wanted to only convey concern. But he also wanted to sound as casual as the current situation permitted.

"Day off." Michael responded with a half a shrug and a burp.

That's strange, James thought. Michael usually went off on some adventure despite having a "day off."

"Temperate sour?" he ventured slowly. He hoped the question would upset his friend.

Michael shrugged again. "Yeah, I'm in an awful mood."

"About what?" James questioned. The curiosity was getting the better of his concern but he quickly pushed it aside. He continued, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Michael gazed into James' eyes.

For James, it was quite uncomfortable to be in the sight of such a tormented man, but he held firm and looked back with equal intensity.

Finally Michael said, "Today – tonight is the anniversary of the man, whom my sister loved, death."

James was shocked. He was about to say something but Michael stopped him with the raising of his hand.

"Yeah," he admitted as his voice grew softer. "I've got a sister." He paused, uncertain, and then went on, "The man died. The man she loved died – died this day." Another pause. "It's been four years, and the aftermath is disturbing and the people who are struck haven't stopped reeling from it."

"She's not the same, James." Michael halved dry sobbed. His voice got shakier as he continued, "She's grieving still."

James didn't know how to take the revelation but he sincerely said, "I'm sorry."

He had known Michael for three years. They had grown very close after all the things they've shared. James considered him as a best friend for they had much in common. And even with the differences, they would take advantage of them.

Michael had failed to mention a sister. But could he really blame him? After all, he hasn't given Michael privy about Alec.

"It took a year after his untimely departure before she found out." Michael went on. He couldn't stop now. He needed to let everything out.

And James let him.

"A year of not knowing whether he was safe or not!" Michael cried in his own disbelief.

James couldn't help but wince at the desperation and torment he heard creep into Michael's voice.

"During the second year of his death, the same year she found out, my sister became utterly distraught." Michael said. He was not lost in his painful memories. "She wouldn't eat, sleep, or do anything else…" Another dry sob. "She just cried. She just cried and cried. And even when she couldn't produce anymore tears she cried in silence. It was the only sound I heard from her lips in that whole year."

Michael cast his eyes downward and played with the bottle of whiskey. He flinched as if hit by something as he continued; his voice dropping, "The year after that was one of silence. Yeah, she stopped crying. Sure, she started to eat, etc, but she never made sound." He paused again but the reason was because he was uncertain about life after reminding himself about his sister's plight.

James, during the deafening pause, suddenly realized that he hasn't taken even a sip of his Martini. He didn't feel like drinking. All he felt like doing was to sit and listen to his friend. His empathy radar rose for he knew what it was like to lose a loved one abruptly very well.

"Is it better now; two years after the silence?" James had to ask. He hoped Michael's sister didn't go through a downward spiral.

Michael looked up quickly. He looked thoughtful. So when he found his answer, he smiled a bittersweet smile.

"Better?" he asked the bitterness evident in his voice. "Yeah, if you call it that, then yes!" he then sarcastically exclaimed. But he soon sobered; never putting away the bittersweet smile.

"She eats, sleeps, drinks, goes to the facility, travels, works, and hell, even talks!" Michael said with a fake cheerful voice. Then his voice saddened, "But she rarely laughs. God, I miss her laugh." He shrugged. "So yeah, she lives."

The aura around Michael and his body language became even more grief looking. Still, the bittersweet smile laid on his face.

"All I have been doing is watching her. She's "better," yeah, I guess she is. But then again… When the man she was in love with died, a part of her died with him." Michael said with a grimace.

He then gave James the most shattering and heartbreaking look that the M16 agent has ever seen.

"I could only watch."

He then stopped. He was no longer talking. His sister's depression and loss was overwhelming. He could speak no more.

James didn't know what to say. He wanted to say something. He wanted to make a joke, he wanted to tease or mock, but he couldn't. He felt awkward because he didn't know what to do.

He had never seen or heard Michael so distressed. James could not imagine how much pain Michael went through being there for his sister.

He couldn't find the right thing to say. So all he could think he could do was sit, drink, and give company to his friend.

But there was one thing he could do for certain.

_He could only watch._

**The End**

**End-note: **I hope you all enjoyed this. I hope you can give me some feedback.


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